


mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell

by aiyah



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (I think?), Alternate Universe - College/University, Clown-to-Clown Courtship, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiyah/pseuds/aiyah
Summary: Sokka may be failing his intro biology classas a college senior, but luckily, Zuko's here to help him through it.[alternatively: In which Sokka and Zuko commence their awkwardwill-they-won't-they?dance around each other, and Katara is having none of it. (None of it, at all.)]
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 522





	mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell

**Author's Note:**

> for foxxy canyon (also where did i even come up with this? i literally wrote a meme™)
> 
> (unbeta'd as always, all mistakes are mine :>)

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

 _Yikes_.

Sokka clicks his tongue. His biology midterm glares up at him, a neat _47%_ written on the side next to his name in a pink so hot, it burns straight through his eyes and into his brain.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes vigorously before checking again. Nope. Still there.

“Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?” Sokka looks back up at his biology professor in confusion. Professor Piandao Jian, First of his Name, Emperor of the Biology Department, and Father of Fruit Flies, shakes his head solemnly.

“Mr. Qanik,” the professor begins, clasping his hands on his desk in the universal sign of _I’m-the-bearer-of-bad-news_. “I’m afraid that this isn’t a mistake. You did, indeed, somehow manage to score three standard deviations below the average.”

 _This is a big mood™_ , Sokka thinks to himself. Sure, biology has never been his best subject, but he refuses to believe that he’d score a friggin’ _47%_ in an _intro biology_ class, of all things possible on the spirits’ good green earth.

“Huh. This doesn’t look good,” he mutters to himself, sweat pouring on his forehead because, _hello?_ , his dumbass meter is flying off all the charts and setting off alarms in his head. _How the fuck do you screw up this badly_?

“I agree with that sentiment, Mr. Qanik.” Professor Jian says, his calm demeanor masking the countless student meltdowns he’s obviously witnessed over his many years of teaching. “Remember, we do have an exam-drop policy, but I would highly suggest that you find yourself a study group or a tutor to help you with reviewing the material. You are also welcome to visit me during office hours, if you have further questions that require clarification.”

“Um, okay,” Sokka twiddles his thumbs and looks back at his professor. “But—and here’s the thing, I’m not trying to make excuses or—”

“Mr. Qanik, I have been teaching BIO101 for almost an entire decade,” his professor interrupts, “and you are hardly the last senior I’ve met who’s taking this course to fulfill the life sciences requirement for graduation. Granted, your exam grades may be on the low side, but I have complete confidence that you can succeed in this course if you take the time to review the material in a thorough fashion.”

(Which Sokka translates to a casual: “ _get your shit together or else you won’t graduate_.”)

Professor Jian’s steely gaze cuts straight through Sokka like one of the lasers in the engineering workshop room. His professor’s face reminds him of the look on his dad’s face when Sokka failed his first coding competition in high school: a look of reluctant acceptance shot through with disappointment. It’s a terrible expression that brings back memories of failure and discomfort. Sokka wiggles in his chair.

“Thank you so much for your time, professor. I’ll make sure to do better on the next test.” He shoves the exams into the depths of his backpack and stands up abruptly, back screaming in protest.

“You’re most welcome, Mr. Qanik. I look forward to seeing you in class on Thursday.” The professor nods slightly, and Sokka quickly exits the office and flees down the hall.

 _See? This is what you get when you spend too much time playing Spider Solitaire instead of studying_. Sokka can pretty much hear Katara’s bossy voice ringing in his head, and he’s sure that she’ll bring it up to him during their hangout at Sharetea tonight. There are very few people that know how to get on Sokka’s nerves, and Katara is definitely one of them. Leave it to his little sister to make him feel like a bona fide idiot.

“Shut up!” he declares out loud. Two freshman girls stop their conversation and scuttle towards the other side of the hallway, staring at him with guarded eyes. They’ve clearly never witnessed a mental breakdown in public yet. _Just wait till midterms season actually hits_ , Sokka thinks sagely. _Then we’ll see who’s doing the screaming and the dodging_.

(Okay. Maybe not _that_ bad. But he’s definitely done his fair share of dumb things on exams that led to some late night screaming sessions with his pillow.)

Sokka grunts and trudges his way out of the bio building and into the dimming light of the late afternoon. He sets a course for his apartment, contemplating his entire existence all the while and feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

( _Well, you are an idiot_ , tiny Katara whispers into his ear. Sokka shakes his head violently to disperse those thoughts.)

And considering how stupid he can be at times, Sokka’s proud of the fact that he pretty much has his entire life planned out already.

Step one: _obtain job_. (Been there, done that. He checks it off the list.)

Step two: _obtain material wealth_. (Hence the job. Sokka’s sure that his software engineering gig at Facebook will take care of that.)

Step three: _obtain romantic love_. (Hm. Maybe he’s not as prepared as he thinks he is. Sokka circles this point in his head and highlights it. He’s burned a torch for a certain raven-haired, golden-eyed someone for the past year and a half, and unfortunately, the torch is stuck smack dab in the Friend Zone™ with no way out.)

Point is, Sokka’s finally gotten all of his shit together before the stupid life sciences requirement in the core curriculum decided to throw in one last bit of chaos in his senior year of college. He’s made it through both regular biology _and_ AP Biology in high school with relatively ~~mediocre~~ decent grades. And he didn’t expect intro biology to be that hard, but Professor Jian does have a tendency to go through slides quickly and talk at three hundred miles or something. Not to mention the fact that class is at _ten in the morning_ , a hellish time where Sokka’s still too brain dead to actually pay attention. (Who thought that an early morning class would be a good idea? That’s right. No one. Except for almost-graduating seniors who need a to fulfill a stupid checklist for a piece of paper.)

The irony of Sokka failing the first BIO101 exam sounds like the setup to a very stupid joke or stand-up comedy special, featuring all-nighters and last-minute procrastination.

(Hm. Stand-up might not be a bad fall-back plan if BIO101 doesn’t work out.)

His phone buzzes, and Sokka idly taps through to read Katara’s latest text: “ _Are you still good for Sharetea @8?_ ”. Sighing, he swings his backpack idly and fumbles through a response about seeing her there. He can’t wait for his sister's inevitable roast.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

“I _told_ you to stop playing Spider Solitaire all the time, Sokka!”

And there it is. Bada bing, bada boom. Sokka takes another sip from his Okinawa pearl milk tea. A little bit of roasted brown sugar never hurt anyone.

(Well, except for Katara. His sister looks positively murderous.)

“Are you listening to me?” Katara waves her hands wildly. Her voice is rising a decibel a second, and the people sitting around them in Sharetea are starting to take notice.

“Keep your voice down,” Sokka hisses. Geez. If there’s one thing that Katara prioritizes besides her grades (and her bajillion extracurriculars, _and_ her boyfriend), it’s making sure that her dumb older brother doesn’t land himself in hot water. Sokka knows he should’ve seen this meltdown a mile away.

“ _Sokka_! Pay attention!” His sister leans over and pinches him on the arm.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for?”

“I’m worried about you!” Katara looks like she’s about to pass out from stress. “How could you do… this poorly in _intro biology_?”

“I ask myself the same thing all the time.”

“This is not a joke. You need to pass this class, don’t you?”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a freaking bio major.”

“Bio major or not, that’s not my main point.” Katara sits back and folds her arms. “You’re going to fail this class if you don’t get your act together.”

(And judging by her dismay, Sokka wonders if Katara and his biology professor happen to share this particular brain cell of disappointment over his grades.)

“What’s going on?” A deep voice rumbles behind him. Sokka looks upwards, mouth stretching into a grin when he realizes he’s staring into the delicately scarred face of Zuko, his freshman roommate and best friend.

(And before you say anything about Sokka’s raven-haired, golden-eyed someone, just stop. There are more pressing issues right now.)

“Zuko!” Sokka moves his backpack and pats the space on the couch next to him. “What’re you doing here, darling?”

“Getting something nice to drink after my biochem midterm,” his best friend says, sliding down onto the couch with a quiet thump. “I didn’t realize I’d be bumping into both of you.”

“It’s so nice for you to join us,” Sokka grins, slinging an arm over Zuko’s shoulder and mussing his friend’s dark hair enthusiastically. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Sokka, stop flirting and start paying attention!”

“Katara, leave me alone.”

“So what’s going on?” Zuko asks, reaching up to remove Sokka’s hand. “You look stressed, Katara.”

“Of course I’d be stressed! Sokka just failed his first biology exam!” Katara exclaims. Sokka shoots her a look, but it’s too late.

Zuko frowns, shifting up in his seat and staring at Sokka in surprise. “I thought compsci majors didn’t need biology?”

“Well yeah, but I need a life sciences credit and oceanology was too early in the morning.” Sokka shrugs.

“ _Nine in the morning_ is not _too early_! And it’s _oceanography_ , not _oceanology_ ,” his sister shrieks before turning her attention to Zuko. “Tell Sokka to take this seriously.”

“Sokka, please take this seriously,” and the look Zuko gives him makes Sokka feel so, so guilty. (So all three of them—Katara, his professor, and Zuko—are obviously sharing the same brain cell of regret directed towards him.)

“Yeah, I definitely need help,” Sokka picks up his bubble tea and swirls it around, watching the black tapioca pearls swim languidly in circles. “But where do I start?”

“Congratulations.” His sister is picking at her nails. “The first step is admitting that you have a problem.”

“Katara, _please_. Not helping.”

“I was wondering if your professor gave you any advice on how to improve?” Zuko asks, placing his wintermelon tea on the table.

“He said I should look for a study group or a tutor. And like office hours. But, like—” Sokka pauses, “honestly, I don’t think anyone wants to be in a study group with a senior, y’know?”

“That’s a good point. You don’t need to expose yourself as a terrible student, anyways.”

“Katara, are you trying to help me or are you roasting me?”

“Both.” His sister reaches for her tropical fruit tea.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Seriously though,” Katara says. “You said he mentioned tutoring?”

“Well, yeah, but like I said, I don’t know about the whole—” Sokka trails off.

“Yeah, yeah. The ‘ _I’m-a-senior-and-I-should-know-better_ ’ thing,” Katara air-quotes in the air. “Trust me, people won’t judge you if you ask for help.”

“Oh, yeah? Then will you tutor me, Miss I’m-A-Premed-And-I-Like-It?”

“Can’t.” Katara clicks her tongue. “I’m already tutoring two people. Plus, I don’t think we’re gonna get much done if I tutor you.”

“Right. More like, we’re gonna spend most of the time arguing.”

“Or me just roasting your inability to differentiate between meiosis and mitosis.” Katara nods. “Speaking of which, maybe you could check out the tutoring center if you’re so worried about making a study group and stuff.”

“But, like, what if I go to the tutoring center and a friggin’ smartass _freshman_ tutors me?” Sokka’s panicking slightly. He likes to think that he has pretty tough skin, but he’ll never be able to live down the experience of being tutored by an underclassman several years younger than him.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Zuko murmurs, startling Sokka off his train of thought.

“Why?”

“Because I’ll do it. I’ll tutor you,” his best friend says nonchalantly. “I might be a bit rusty since I haven’t taken BIO101 in a while, but I think I’ll still be able to help.”

Sokka begins to take on a whole new level of panic. Zuko’s well-known around their campus for scoring top marks in all of his classes, not to mention his position as MEDLIFE executive chair and his job as a lab tech on campus.

Oh, and he’s also a frat brother in Phi Dex. In other words, Zuko’s pretty much perfect.

It only takes a few minutes for Sokka’s initial panic to spontaneously combust into pure intimidation. He looks over to his sister for any moral support, only to realize that she looks like she’s deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It’s a look that Sokka’s seen many times in his life, and he feels a chill rush up his spine. There are very few things he’s afraid of, and Katara’s resting think face is one of them. Nothing good ever comes when his sister starts overthinking or planning things.

“That sounds like a _great_ idea.” Katara’s grin looks exactly like the face their cat Momo puts on when he’s up to mischief.

“ _Are you serious_?”

“Sokka, relax.” Zuko places a firm hand on Sokka’s arm. “I can teach you. I know biology can seem daunting at first, but with some practice, I’m sure you’ll be great in no time.”

( _I’m not daunted by biology!_ Sokka wants to say. _I’m terrified that you’ll judge my dumbness, actually_. But he doesn’t say that. He just thinks it, long and hard in his head.)

“Okay,” he finally mutters. “Sounds like a plan.”

“It’s a _great_ plan!”

“ _Not helping_ , Katara.”

“I’m always happy to help,” Zuko nods. “But I do have one request.”

“ _He’ll do literally anything_.”

“Katara, _why_.” Sokka flips his sister off under the table and looks back at Zuko. “What is it?”

“Are you free two Fridays from now?”

“Uh, probably? If I’m not doing senior design or anything—why?”

“I might need your help for something.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll let you know about it later,” Zuko says. “In the meantime, when do you want to start reviewing your material?”

“I have a coding assignment due in the morning, but tomorrow afternoon works for me.”

“Sounds great.” Zuko’s phone dings in his hands. “I actually have to head out now, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Just text me the place, and I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Zuko!” Katara waves enthusiastically at Zuko’s retreating back before redirecting her gaze towards Sokka and clearing her throat.

“What?”

“You two are idiots,” his sister declares before chugging the rest of her fruit tea in large gulps, slamming the empty cup on the table. “Idiots.”

“What does that even mean?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“Can you not?”

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

“Sokka, I think I finally figured out what your problem is.” Zuko shuffles some papers together and adjusts his glasses.

“What?” Sokka’s barely awake. He ended up writing way too many test cases for his code, and what was only supposed to take a few hours bled into an all-nighter, complete with empty cans of Red Bull and copious amounts of Oberto All-Natural Spicy Sweet Beef Jerky. Sokka has no idea how he’s even conscious at this point as he feebly attempts to pay attention to Zuko during the tutoring session.

“This first test, it was mostly review and basic cell components, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t think cells are your strong suit.”

“Well, cells aren’t meant for wearing, now are they?” Sokka chuckles darkly. Zuko just looks at him with a blank look on his face. “Okay, forget that joke. What about cells?”

“You actually have a decent grasp on overall material, but your knowledge in this particular subject is quite lacking.” Zuko flips to a particular page in the packet before pointing at a specific question and showing it to Sokka. “For instance, you need some brushing up on organelle functions.”

Sokka looks down at the question: “ _What is the function of mitochondria?_ ”

And his answer (written in barely legible handwriting, of course): “ _mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell_ ”.

(So if Sokka doesn’t actually end up graduating with a bachelor’s in computer science, at least he’ll be getting a (imaginary) diploma for a bachelor’s in stupidity.)

“But it’s true! Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell!” Sokka protests.

“First things first—”

“I’m the realest.”

“—while it’s true that one could say— _huh_?”

“Nevermind. Forget it.” Sometimes, Sokka forgets how Zuko has near-zero knowledge of pop music and culture.

“As I was saying, while you could technically define mitochondria to be the ‘powerhouse of the cell,’” Zuko continues, slender fingers miming air quotes, “I’m not quite sure that answer contained sufficient enough information for what your professor was looking for.”

Sokka blinks twice. “Um, okay. Can you help me with that?”

“I can certainly help you with reviewing the material, but you’ll have to do some more reading and practice on your own as well.”

“ _More_ reading and practice?” Now that’s definitely time that Sokka doesn’t have. In between his senior design project and his daily coding assignments (including the all-nighter he just pulled), he barely has time to have a good sleep, let alone study for other, less interesting classes ~~he’s only taking for graduation requirements~~.

“Yes, more reading and practice.” Zuko looks sympathetic. “In many cases, professors tend to expect fleshed-out answers, especially on exams that have free response questions.”

“And _this_ is why I stick to coding, everyone.” Sokka raises both hands in frustration. “At least they don’t ask stupid questions about specific functions and definitions.”

“I will sadly have to concur with you on that fact.” Zuko flips through the rest of Sokka’s exam, circling different questions with his pen. “It’s mostly because introductory science courses have curves that are meant to weed out as many people as possible due to class size in higher-level seminars, and unfortunately, you happen to be affected by this phenomenon.”

“That’s dumb. Screw the system.”

“Yes, it’s ridiculous, but we’ll have to discuss dismantling the inherently biased and toxic nature of academia later. Right now, let’s focus on how you can improve your grades. Can you show me what the professor covered in class today?”

“Right-o, here you go,” Sokka slides his notebook towards his best friend and cringes when Zuko begins flipping through pages upon pages of crudely written notes. The next hour is spent in relative quiet murmurs as Zuko points out different terms and highlights them neatly in bright yellow, pausing here and there to make sure that Sokka is still following along.

And honestly? Sokka’s completely lost. It’s like someone dumped him in the middle of the forest without a map to show him the way out. That, and he’s not sure how much longer he can take, being stuck in a study room with Zuko and watching his unfairly attractive best friend explain the differences between prokaryotes and eukaryotes in that criminally smoky voice of his. Sokka’s practically suffocating from the sheer awkwardness filling the room, and he chokes back a small gasp when he catches Zuko peering at him.

“Maybe we should stop for today,” Zuko moves to close the notebook. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

“What? No! ’Course not, I’m fine!”

“Sokka, what time did you go to bed yesterday?”

“Bed? What’s that? Sounds like a social construct to me.”

“Did you pull an all-nighter?” Zuko narrows his eyes into golden slits that pierce straight into Sokka’s heart.

“Um, maybe?”

“You should’ve told me!” His friend looks horrified. “How have you stayed awake for so long? You need to be sleeping, not studying.”

“But we gotta get through this material, don’t we?”

“Yes, but not on a sleep-deprived brain.”

“Hey, don’t y’all premeds, like, not sleep?”

“Excuse you, but I make sure to get a healthy six hours of sleep every night.” Zuko tries to look dignified.

“That doesn’t sound like much, honestly.”

“It’s better than an all-nighter.”

“Okay, you win this time, darling.” Sokka rolls his eyes. “I really could use a nap right now.”

“Then take a nap. We can review the material later.”

“A nap? Here?” Sokka sweeps an arm around the tiny study room. “How am I supposed to sleep here?”

“Well, it’s pretty quiet, and I can watch over our things.”

“Aren’t you, like, super busy, though?”

“Sokka,” Zuko huffs. “I have a few more things I need to write out for my journal club, so I definitely have stuff to do. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

“Then don’t mind if I do.” Sokka moves to pull off his hoodie and roll it into a makeshift pillow. He smashes his face into his hoodie-pillow and promptly passes out to the sound of Zuko typing quietly into his laptop.

Sokka sleeps so soundly, he doesn’t even feel the cool hand stroking through his hair with a feather-light touch.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

There’s something off about everything.

At least that’s what Sokka’s thinking. His study sessions with Zuko have finally started paying off. Sokka’s finally starting to understand the terminology for his biology class and finally opens the textbook for a change, looking through charts and pictures when he’s stuck. His coding assignments come and go like the tides, some a gentle poke that takes a few hours to finish, others a sudden riptide that throws an all-nighter over him. (That’s honestly to be expected.)

But there’s something else bothering Sokka, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

The answer comes in the form of a gigantic shadow that barrels towards him while he walks towards Professor Jian’s office hours one afternoon. Sokka falls backwards against the sidewalk with a strangled shout, yelping when he feels something wet and rough nuzzling against his face.

“Nyla! Down!” A husky voice commands, and Sokka feels the shadow leave him with a whine. He rubs his eyes and opens them to find a gigantic German Shepherd sniffing around, staring at him with dark amber eyes.

A slim hand appears in front of Sokka and he grasps it before being roughly pulled upwards.

“He’s usually not like this.” The voice continues, and Sokka can see a young woman with long, black hair standing in front of him, one kohl-rimmed eye arched in mild amusement. She’s wearing a sleeveless dress—despite the chilly weather—and Sokka notices a red spiral tattooed on both shoulders.

“Um, it’s all good,” Sokka replies, because what else is he supposed to say?

“You’re Sokka, right? Sokka Qanik?” the woman asks. “I’m assuming you are, because you’re the only Sokka listed in the directory.”

“Do I know you?” Now Sokka’s even more confused. The woman looks oddly familiar, but he can’t quite place her in his mind.

“Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself, especially with all the trouble I’ve caused,” the woman exclaims, tugging the dog to her feet before extending her hand once again. “I’m June. And I have a message for you from Zuko. It’s about the request you owe him.”

“Zuko?” The mere mention of his friend’s name has Sokka’s heart thumping in all the wrong places. “What about him?”

“He wants me to tell you to meet him at the giant oak tree outside our frat house tomorrow at seven. That’s P.M., if you weren’t sure about that.”

“Oh, you’re in Phi Dex, too?”

“Honestly, I’ve been inactive for a while, and I’m just the messenger here.” June flips her hair and ties it into a sloppy topknot. “I’d suggest that you wear something informal, but not, like, super _caszh_ , you know?” She waves a neatly manicured finger around Sokka and his Converse. “Like, a step up from that would work.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m just the messenger, remember?” June shrugs. “And the messenger has completed her work and delivered the message.” She bends down and clips a leash on the German Shepherd. “I hope everything goes well, Sokka.”

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Sokka calls after her while she walks away, the German Shepherd trotting next to her as they turn a corner and vanish from Sokka’s sight.

 _Honestly not the weirdest thing that’s happened lately_ , he thinks as he power walks to the bio building. _But why didn’t Zuko just tell me himself_? _Why did he ask someone else to tell me_?

The questions orbit Sokka’s mind throughout the rest of the morning and flow out of his mouth during lunch. He’s eating with Suki at the sushi bar today. Suki is a fellow compsci major who’s in Sokka’s senior design team, and she’s also one of the people he feels closest enough with to share his personal thoughts.

“Dude, I don’t know.” Suki lifts up a spider roll with her chopsticks and dips it neatly in her soy sauce. “Any reason why he’d be avoiding you?”

“I’m not sure. He’s usually really open with me about things.” Sokka shoves some salmon nigiri into his mouth and chews thoughtfully. Even though Zuko does have hermit tendencies, he’s still fairly open with his friends and the people around him.

“Huh. That’s weird.”

“That’s all you gotta say about this? That it’s weird?”

“Look, Sokka.” Suki points towards him with her chopsticks. “Every single time I hear about Zuko from you, it’s all about how great he is. Zuko did this, oh, and Zuko did that, and on and on and on. Are you sure you aren’t in love with him or something?”

Sokka’s salmon nigiri takes a nosedive down the wrong pipe. He chokes and reaches for his cup of water to wash things down.

“Excuse me?” Sokka sputters.

“In love? With your supposed best friend?” Suki stares at him. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“No?” Sokka wipes his mouth with a napkin. “But why would you say that?”

“Sokka, I’ve seen you talk about this guy for ages now, and I feel like I know more about him than I do about most of the girls in my dance troupe. That’s saying a lot, especially since I’ve only met Zuko twice and you were practically clinging to him both times.”

“Oops.”

“Not an oops moment. You’re having your very own _revelation_ , Sokka.” Suki dabs the edges of her eyeliner. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to witness this.”

“Please. You’re almost as bad as Katara.”

“Who says Katara didn’t learn it from me?”

Sokka gapes. “Suki Jun, _what did you say_?”

“Katara’s my friend, too, you know.” Suki twirls a chopstick deftly with her fingers. “We’re just here in the peanut gallery, watching you two get it on, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, _spirits_.” Sokka drops his chopsticks and buries his head in his hands. “This thing tomorrow, what if it’s, like a, y’know—”

“Date.” Suki finishes without preamble. “You can go ahead and say it. It’s not gonna bite you or anything unless you want it to.”

“ _GAH_.” Sokka wishes that he could drop straight through the floor and into the spirit realm right now. “Why do you have to be so blunt about it?”

“I’m just your friendly neighborhood psychologist-in-training,” Suki pats him on the back in a comforting yet menacing way. “And this doctor’s telling you, _you got it bad_.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” A quick glance at his watch tells him that lunch is almost over, and Sokka motions to clear their table. _So_ what if it’s a date? He’s been on tons of dates before. (Well, _kinda-not-really_. The “date” with Yue in freshman year didn’t really count, and none of the formals he’s attended with Suki count, either. Sokka had attended all of these events with a clear understanding that they weren’t really _date_ dates.)

“If I were you, I’d really savor this moment, ’kay? _Carpe diem_? Just go for it.” Suki nods encouragingly. “And if anything happens, you know you can always count on me for some good ol’ ice cream and I scream.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“You know you love me.” Suki blows Sokka an exaggerated kiss as she saunters away to her class.

 _Carpe diem_ , Sokka doodles into the margins of his notebook during BIO101. _Let’s do this_.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Of _course_ it’s fucking _champagne and shackles_. Sokka’s only heard about these types of date nights during freshman year, and apparently it’s all about literally being handcuffed to your date and finishing a bottle of champagne with them before you’re finally able to go free. He remembers thinking that the premise is cliché as fuck, and now he’s actually experiencing it for the first time as a senior.

Sokka resists the urge to literally dig a hole in the ground and crawl right into it. Unfortunately, his left hand is currently occupied with a dark crimson necktie bound tightly around his wrist. He tugs on the necktie experimentally and winces as the circulation in his wrist slowly cuts off.

“Ow!”

“Please don’t do that again,” and Sokka looks down at the pale hand restrained by the other half of the necktie. His gaze follows the arm upwards, and Sokka mentally slaps himself in frustration.

Zuko looks like he’s somewhere in between fainting and bolting. The suit jacket and dress shirt combo he’s wearing is doing wonders for Sokka’s innermost fantasies.

 _Stop it_ , he tells himself firmly before smiling bashfully at Zuko. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, just don’t do it again.”

“I gotcha,” Sokka mutters. He looks around at the rest of the party, grimly noticing how everyone is paired up and connected to their partner with the same kind of necktie, albeit in different colors. There are a vast collection of champagne bottles standing on the table next to them, and Sokka notices how Zuko reaches over with his free hand to grab one of them.

“Who the hell chose this theme anyways?” Sokka grumbles aloud.

“I’m not sure, but probably one of the romantics on the exec board,” Zuko replies. “Besides, I think that champagne and shackles is a tradition of sorts.”

“It is?”

“I think we just need to finish this bottle and we’ll be free,” his ~~friend?~~ date says, and Sokka can barely hear him over the bass booming inside the Phi Dex house.

“We what?” He shouts in Zuko’s ear and immediately regrets it when Zuko flinches visibly.

“Outside,” Zuko mutters over the chaos, pointing towards the door with the champagne bottle and dragging Sokka along for the ride. They weave their way in between the other couples and barely manage to make it outside on the porch before Zuko drops in a nearest chair, taking Sokka with him.

“Ow!” Sokka rubs his arm. There’s definitely going to be a bruise there tomorrow.

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you offering me your doctorly services, darling?” Sokka asks. There’s a split second of silence before the tension breaks, both of them descending into giggles and trying desperately to hold onto the champagne bottle. Sokka manages to grab the champagne and takes a swig, the bubbles floating straight into his brain and fizzling with tiny _pops_!.

“Y’know, I met June before this.” he declares before handing the bottle to Zuko. “She didn’t tell me about the champagne and shackles part, though.”

“I didn’t know about it until today, actually.” Zuko stares at the bottle before taking a tiny sip, grimacing as he swallows. “This is what you get when you finally decide to attend one of your fraternity’s date nights, I presume.”

“Hold on.” Sokka blinks. “You’ve never been to a date night before?”

“If you don’t count the mandatory ones during pledging, then no. This is my first time, too.” Zuko looks back at Sokka shyly before handing him the champagne. When their fingers brush together, it feels like a small spark somersaulting up Sokka’s arm and into his brain.

He takes another swig for confidence. “So. Why now? Why this date night?”

Zuko takes the champagne back from Sokka and chugs it for several seconds, his pale face stained a pretty pink when he finally stops and hands the bottle back to Sokka. “Because I knew I couldn’t find a better excuse to ask you to hang out with me, and I really needed the confidence to tell you something.”

“Um, okay. Go ahead.”

“I like you a lot, Sokka, and it’s more than friends. I’ve been using our tutoring sessions to justify why I should hang out with you, but I don’t know how much more I can take.”

 _Woah, there_. Sokka feels like he’s just collided with the feels train and has no idea how to respond. He falls silent, swirling the champagne bottle in his hand in time with his jumbled thoughts.

 _Zuko likes me_? Sokka should be jumping for joy right about now and crossing out that final point on his mental checklist, but he’s still trying to parse through it all. The alcohol from the champagne is definitely not helping as it paints a shimmery haze over his mind.

“Sokka?” and Zuko’s peering into his face, golden eyes shimmering with worry. Sokka’s caught between wanting to kiss the hell out of his friend or asking more questions.

And being the dumbass he is, he chooses a third option. The champagne’s almost out, and he wants some more. “Is that all?”

In the dappled moonlight on the porch, Zuko looks strangely disappointed. “Yeah, that’s it. Thanks for being here, at least.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know how you would react to all of this, but I suppose I’ve gotten my answer.” Sokka watches as Zuko grabs the bottle and shakes it violently. “I’ll just finish this up so we can get untied, and you can go home.”

 _No_! _It can’t end like this, Sokka_! _You gotta do something about it_! Tiny Katara poofs onto Sokka’s shoulder, accompanied by an equally miniscule version of Suki.

 _If you let him go, you might never see him again_. Tiny Suki’s warning sounds incredibly ominous.

When Zuko finally lifts the champagne to his lips to drink the last few drops, Sokka surges forward and knocks the bottle away, sliding his lips against Zuko’s and kissing him as if both of their lives depend on it. Zuko tastes like fresh fruit and flowers, like a hint of smoke from a burning flame on a cold winter’s day, like something sweet yet rich that’s entirely too addicting, Sokka can’t help but want more.

“ _Sokka_ ,” Zuko murmurs quietly, and whatever words he was planning on saying next are lost when Sokka kisses him again and again. Here he is, sitting on a porch as a breeze passes through, and kissing the daylights out of his best friend.

Sokka can’t imagine anything better than this moment.

When they finally break apart for breath, he reaches towards Zuko and traces the mottled scar with a shaking finger, marveling at the blush spreading across his best friend’s face.

“Hey there, darling,” Sokka whispers.

Zuko’s eyes are gleaming. “But, I thought you didn’t, I mean, you asked earlier if that was it and—”

“I was asking about the champagne. If that was it, or if I could get more so we could keep talking.”

“ _What_?”

“Yeah, I have a pretty illogical way of thinking things.” Sokka’s shame paints a vivid blush on his own face. (He can’t blame it on Asian Glow.)

“You dumbo,” Zuko laughs breathlessly. “That’s such a ridiculous way of thinking about it.”

“Not as ridiculous as what I’m about to say.”

“What?”

“Zuko, you’re the mitochondria to my cell.”

“Huh?”

“’Cuz darling, you’re essential to my survival.”

Zuko falls silent, and Sokka’s terrified by that reaction.

“Sokka?”

“Hm?”

“I think you need some tutoring with your… flirtation.”

“Really?”

“Lucky for you, I know just the guy.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“ _Oh, yeah_.”

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Sokka gets a 88% on his second exam.

(Everyone liked that.)

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments literally make my day :D


End file.
